The Big Debut
On the way to my first day at work, I stopped by CVS to pick up a lock for the locker I planned to use at the club. When I arrived, I learned it costs money to rent the lockers. Of course. So I did what I like to believe any newbie would do–I found an empty locker and snagged it. I’ll have to make good on that debt soon.
I sat by myself on a bench next to a dirty plate speckled with rice and about 20 shrimp tails. Nasty. The other girls all sat on 2 benches that had mirrors in front of them with a small bar to set their makeup. I had expected something a little nicer, but I’m not sure what. Most of them came to the club without their hair and makeup done, but I was ready.
I stripped down to my skivvies, then replaced them with sexy lexy skivvies. I sat away from the other girls, not wanting to interfere with whatever flow they have. I figure I’ll sit back and observe for a while before asking them all my questions. After a few girls left to go dance, I began talking with a few of the others. They were all suprisingly nice. I guess I expected them to be bitchy to the new girl, but nope. They were all pleasant.
The house mom showed up and helped prepare me to work. She was reserved and thoughtful.
I made a visit to the DJ booth to ask where I was in the lineup. Where I’m working, you can pay to stay off stage and just do lap dances. I like to be the center of attention, so I was just going to request my music. My turn was up, and I worked the stage like an old, wrinkly pro. I was a tad disappointed when I didn’t make a SINGLE dollar, and then I realized none of the other girls, even the hotty totties, were making more than $2-3 on the stage. There were very few men there at the time, and then I was told it is not a big “stage” club. Nice. Whatever. I am going to work that stage every shift. I must shake the bootie and work the pole. It just feels so empowering. The DJ had a ton of constructive criticism. The most valuable thing he told me? He hated my panties. LOL. My husband loves them, so I think I’ll go with his opinion instead. Meaning–only private performances for my husband in those panties.
I met some real winners at the club. One guy, my very first lap dance client, smelled to high Heaven. I swear he was wearing a toupee and a glued on mustache. He said he will come back tomorrow for more. I’m thrilled to take his money and even moreso to have to rush to the back after I dance for him to wipe myself down in baby wipes to remove his stench from my general area.
Another guy was a medical doctor who immediately informed me he had a hard time keeping his soldier at bay when he was around beautiful women. He then demonstrated this for me and pointed to the little guy trying to rip a hole in his pants. He also asked me to lick his nipple. Thanks, but no. I don’t like long, dark, scraggly hair stuck in my teeth. And I do like obeying the law.
I can’t count the number of times I vomited in my mouth over both of these men.
Two other guys tried their best to convince me there is absolutely no way I’m going to make any money with my sweet personality and that I will have to cross some moral and legal lines to prosper. Not going to happen. No means no. I just don’t need this. And that is the best position to be in.
